Damn it!
I stopped short. Rocking forward with my momentum, I caught myself from slipping on the edge of the step. Then I spunaround, anxious to have to show my face after he’d sent me running away.
I’ll slip in, get the phone, and slip right back out.
It can’t take more than a few seconds.
He doesn’t even have to notice that I will be returning.
In and out.
It didn’t have to be a big deal. His furious mood wasn’t anything I wanted to linger by, anyway.
I reached the upper floor again and hurried some more. Retracing my steps, I tried to calm my nerves. They were frayed, though, from how angry he’d been.
In and out. Really quick.
I gulped as I came to the door. Pausing to hold my breath, I tried to ignore the fear snapping through me. The door was still slightly ajar. All I had to do was nudge it open a little more with my foot.
He was pacing.
Maybe he won’t even see me.
I entered and winced at the sound of the door making a slightly swishy sound against the carpet.
Looking up, I felt like I’d collided into the full-frontal blast of his wrath. He stopped pacing behind that huge desk and glared at me. Pure anger radiated off him.
I tensed.
So much for slipping in and out unnoticed.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he roared. “I told you to go.”
I swallowed hard. “I forgot my phone.” It came out of me as a shaky little whisper. Offering him that excuse seemed like such a weak line to give.
He narrowed his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” I reached forward only far enough to grab it.
“Just fucking go.” He ran his hand through his hair, resembling a tortured soul.
With the phone in my hand, I should’ve turned tail and dashed out of there. But something held me in place.
Maybe it was the wounded look in his eyes, or the tension in his shoulders as he cringed and turned to pace.
It could’ve been the ragged growl of frustration, too.
Whatever it was, or maybe it was all of it combined, I recognized the desperation on his face. He was furious. He was lashing out at me. And I knew it was because he, too, was vulnerable. Something big was hurting him and stressing him out this severely, and like the ridiculous people pleaser I was, I wished I could help him somehow, that I could urge him back into a more stable state of mind.
“Can… can I help you?” I asked. It was a shame my voice shook, but I was proud of myself for offering.
He scoffed, still so mad. “You think you can help me? Withthis?”
I furrowed my brow.
“You think you can help me with the fact thathecould be messing with the family after all this fucking—” Another growlwas ripped from his throat as he scowled at me. “You thinkyoucan help me?”
“I could.”
